by Kelly Ethan
Xandie probed. “There were never any names mentioned? Why they wanted you to turn a blind eye?”
“No, nothing. But then the crop duster happened. And I had my suspicions afterward.”
Elspeth nodded. “It was horrible. Everyone was glad it wasn’t worse. If the crop duster had dropped over town, it would have caused more damage.”
“The damage it caused was bad enough. The pilot of the plane died and so did my friend’s mother,” Xandie chipped in.
“I got the nod the crop duster had crashed. I figured this is what they wanted me to cover up. We were understaffed, so I managed the crime scene, got the fire department in, but made sure they were friends of mine.” Wolf licked his lips. He looked grateful to tell his story. “I found the pilot first. He’d ejected out, but the chute was damaged, and he didn’t clear the blast zone in time. I expected to find debris, but everything burned hot and fast. Too hot for a crop duster crash. And then I found the dragon.”
He faltered before continuing, “Found a mess of scales, but little else. It wasn’t a normal fire. Dragons are immune to fire, so I figured whoever paid me was a dragon rival taking out another one. I sanitized the area, doctored the books and called in favors. The family of the crop duster got paid. You can check them out. There was never any mention of another body in the report, just the pilot. Then Braun came back and the paranormal investigative group poked their heads in, and Janie started her treatments. No one spoke to me about the incident until today.”
“Do you have the name of the pilot’s family?” They might give her more to go on. Then Xandie thought of something else. “What did you do with the scales you found at the scene?”
Wolf stood and disappeared through a door before reappearing with a small, brown engraved chest. “The name of the family’s inside. Along with this.” He opened the chest and a shimmering silver pink scale glowed.
“You kept it,” Elspeth breathed the words out, transfixed by the glow.
“I cleaned it up. Couldn’t stand to bury it. There’s also a copy of the crop duster report in here. I figured the truth would come out and the family of the dragon might want it.” He offered the box to Xandie.
Xandie took hold of the open chest and stared at the scale. It pulsed, glowing brighter all the time.
“Xandie.” Elspeth pointed to Xandie’s necklace around her neck. The pendant was a gift from the library, passed from librarian to librarian over the centuries. A triangular pendant with an open eye inside the triangle shape with a rising sun behind it. The same necklace now blazed gold. The library wanted her to take the scale.
“Her family, her daughter, will want this. Thank you.” Xandie closed the lid on the transfixing glow. “But you might need to head to ground. People are dying and it’s to do with who this belongs to.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Not hiding any more. My Janie’s gone now, and she’s the only one I’d worry about. The Pennes can come find me.” Wolf stood and the years and the weight of guilt poured away.
Elspeth cackled and clapped her hands. “About time, Wolfie. Let’s plan your defenses while my Xandie deals with the scale. I have the best hexes available to you at only half the price.”
That was her grandmother, always a deal to be made when it involved hexes.
Xandie nodded to Elspeth and Wolf and hefted up the chest.
It was time for Priss to have something belonging to her mother.
Fourteen
“Thanks for driving me, Priss.”
“No worries. Besides, you gave me some of my mom back. And that’s priceless.” Priss kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other patted her chest where the scale rested on a necklace. “So why don’t you drive?”
“I never needed to in Andrews, the town I grew up in. When I worked in Portland, I never bothered having a car either. Plus, most Harrows have issues driving. Elspeth and Holly have scooters and Lila has the bakery van she only uses for deliveries. But they’re the only ones. Our powers react weirdly with engines.”
“Fair enough. Who are we interviewing again?”
Xandie took a steadying breath. She wasn’t sure how her new friend would take the news they were seeing the family of the pilot who killed her mother. “Old Wolf told me the family of the pilot of the crop duster might have a name for us. Is that okay? Can you handle it?”
Knuckles gleamed white on the steering wheel before Priss loosened her grip. “I’ll try. I guess I have more pent-up issues and emotions than I thought. But if it will get us a name, I’ll shut up.”
Xandie patted her friend on the arm for comfort. It was a start. Priss would heal, especially if Xandie got Marjorie off a murder rap, and then she’d meet her grandmother. Xandie checked her directions on her phone. Now they’d left Point Muse, her cell phone was working again. “It’s only two hours’ drive along the highway, heading toward Portland, so we’re almost there. The Mason Harbor turn-off should be our next off-ramp in a few minutes.”
“Righto, boss.” Priss waited for the off-ramp sign and steered the car off the highway. Ten minutes later they were driving through the town of Mason Harbor.
Xandie pointed to a small gray detached cottage. “That’s the place.” The house might be small, but the garden was immaculate. Grass mowed, fresh flowerbeds, prepared for planting. The house had a warm, homely feel. Xandie stepped onto the front porch and rapped on the door. Priss hovered in the background. Xandie hoped her friend could keep calm enough for them to get a name or at least a solid clue on their villain.
A smiling silver-haired lady answered the door. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so. A man called Wolf gave us your name.”
The woman’s face paled, and she moved to close the door. Xandie slid a foot inside. “Please. We need your help. It’s important. Life or death.”
The older lady swung the door open. “Come in. I guess it’s time to talk.”
Xandie and Priss followed the woman into a cheerful yellow kitchen. The woman pulled out two chairs and motioned for the girls to sit. “Why did Wolf give you our name?”
“Because he wanted to help us. Help find a killer and bring them to justice. For everyone involved.” Xandie gestured to Priss. “Her mother was the target. She was a baby when her mother died.”
Priss nodded. “I’m not angry. Your family and Wolf were as much victims as my mother. I want the name of the person who planned the murder. Who’s still killing right now. Can you help us?”
The lady opposite them covered her face for a moment before dropping her hands. “The pilot was my eldest son, Ethan. My husband had just left us. We had no money, and I had no job prospects. Crop dusting was my husband’s job. But when he left, Ethan took over.” She paused, tearing. “He was in the army before. Wasn’t right when he came back. We got this anonymous letter, telling us if my husband flew the crop duster into the indicated target, we’d get a lot of money.”
“Why would anyone agree to killing themselves?” Xandie was equal parts horrified and pitying. To be in such a position to make that decision was a terrible predicament.
“The plane had a parachute. My son decided since he’d parachuted hundreds of jumps with the army it wouldn’t be a big thing to leap out of a crop duster. And then we’d have enough money to tide us over until I got a proper paying job. I had three other kids and a mortgage to consider.” She wiped the tears away with the back of the hand. “I didn’t want him to do it, but he wouldn’t listen. Next thing the police are knocking at my door and the money’s in our mailbox. He never made it out.”
“Who hired him?” Priss pushed the lady, obviously hoping for a specific name.
“No names, but...” She paused, considering her words. “The cops came first thing. The money appeared in our mailbox early that same evening. I was in the garage sorting things out. I didn’t see the car driver get out, but I saw the car leave.”
“And?” Xandie let her voice trail off.
“The car was a silver BMW an
d someone with long blonde hair was driving.”
“You didn’t see the license plate by any chance?”
For the first time, the woman smiled at Xandie. “It was easy to remember. PEN1.”
Blonde hair, silver BMW with the plate PEN1? Sounded like Adelind Penne. It would be easy to mistake blonde hair for silver if you’d only had a quick glance.
The woman got up and reached behind a row of cooking books on a shelf. “Here. My son wanted to make sure his family didn’t get into any trouble. He wrote a letter detailing everything. Plus, he kept the original note offering us the cash. You can take it. It might help.”
Priss reached out and took the letters. “Thank you. This means a lot to us. To me.”
The lady sniffed and stood, ushering Xandie and Priss out. “If you put away the person who arranged this, I’d appreciate it. Peace for my son and my family.”
“We plan on it.” Xandie grabbed the woman’s hand and squeezed gently. “Thanks for being so honest with us.”
The woman nodded and closed the door behind them.
The girls walked back to the car, both silent, processing what the woman had told them.
Priss pulled out of town and back onto the highway before she spoke. “Are you thinking Adelind Penne?”
“It’s starting to add up. I’m not sure if Ronald knows and is covering for her or not. We still need to connect more dots. But yeah, I think the killer is Adelind. She’s determined to be the only Penne heir.”
“What’s our next step?”
Xandie settled into her seat for the drive. “We get back to Point Muse and plan how to trap Adelind.”
“That’s something I can get behind.” Priss flashed an excited smile at Xandie. Then she concentrated as they approached another narrower part of the road near the coast.
Xandie stared out the window, musing on the problem of the murderous Adelind Penne. She glanced over at Priss. Her new friend was handling the latest events much better than Xandie would have. Xandie frowned as Priss tensed, hands tightening on the wheel. She kept glancing at the revision mirror and back over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a car coming up fast behind us.” Priss pulled closer to the edge of the road to allow more room for the car to pass but the other vehicle stayed on their tail.
Xandie turned in her seat. The car was right behind them. But she couldn’t see who was driving because of the tinted windows. “Tell me it’s not a silver BMW?”
“Nope. A green SUV. I can’t see who’s driving.” Priss pushed her foot down, surging in front. “We need to get ahead and shake them. The road will open soon, and we don’t want to go over the edge.”
Xandie peered out the window. There was a ditch on her side. No coastline yet, but it wouldn’t be too far away, not to mention more spots for a tragic accident to occur. Or in the case of Adelind Penne, an engineered accident, masking a murder. “What if we force them into a ditch? Take control?”
“They haven’t done anything yet.”
“That might not last for much longer. The SUV is on the move now.” Xandie pointed as the other vehicle pulled up next to them and inched closer and closer to the side of their little blue car.
“Xandie, hang on. They’re going to hit us.”
The green SUV scrapped the side of the car with a fingernails-on-a-blackboard screech of metal against metal.
Xandie hung on grimly as the little car bucked. Priss fought to kept them on the road. “Even if we ram him, would it make a difference since we’re smaller than the SUV?”
“Maybe if we time it right. We might have a chance.” Priss nodded to another car coming their way. “Hope you got your seatbelt on.”
Xandie braced herself for whatever her friend had planned.
The SUV must’ve spotted the car coming toward them and made a move to pull in behind them. Priss slammed her brakes on and hit the corner of the SUV, sending it into a tailspin. Then she sped off.
The vehicle stopped at a drunken angle across the road. The oncoming car sped past them and braked in front of the SUV. “Priss, you might just become my best friend.”
“You only love me for my driving skills.” Priss smiled at Xandie, a tad wobbly but faking composure.
Xandie shuddered. They’d come so close to disaster and only the quick thinking and defensive driving of Priss, plus lady luck, had saved them.
Adelind Penne wouldn’t get away with murder again, at least not today.
Fifteen
“Let me get this straight. An unknown green SUV allegedly tried running your car off the road?” Caleb Braun ran a hand through his short marine style sandy haircut.
Xandie cleared her throat and offered a tentative agreement. “Yes?”
“Do you have any proof this happened?”
“Ah, Caleb?” His twin brother, Riley, tried to interrupt.
Caleb held a hand up. “I’m five minutes older than you. I’m in charge and I say quiet. I need to interrogate my witness.”
“But you need to look...”
“Riley, give me five minutes here.” Caleb forced a smile and continued. “Xandie, you and Ms. Makepeace were involved in an alleged vehicular incident. Did you stop and exchange details, call emergency services?”
Priss rolled her eyes. “They rammed us. No way would we get out of the car.”
“Allegedly rammed.”
“Caleb Aloysius Braun. You listen to your brother or I’ll box you around your ears and won’t do your washing for a week.” Agatha Braun stood in the doorway, glaring at her son.
“You whined to mom? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Riley rolled his eyes. “And you should check their car out. A green vehicle has rammed it. Lots of paint scrapings left behind,” Riley growled back at his brother.
“Thank you, Deputy Braun, for your insight.” Caleb heaved himself up. “You can fill out a statement when I come back in from checking your car.” He stomped out of the station and gave his mother a wide berth.
Agatha Braun waved Riley off and stood next to Xandie and Priss. “Sorry, ladies. Zack’s delayed so Caleb’s still in charge for at least another few days. I think I’ll be grateful when his big brother’s back.”
Xandie wasn’t happy to have chief cranky back in town. “I wanted to thank you for setting things up for us with Wolf.”
“Anything for you, Xandie. The old boy needed a shakeup, anyway. And I hear Elspeth is doing just that. Plus, setting up wards at his place.” Agatha snickered and then sobered. “I heard you had trouble driving back into Point Muse today?”
“Someone rammed my car. Know any green SUV’s?”
“Not personally, little dragon. There’s a report taken this morning about an SUV stolen from the dragon compound.” Agatha wiggled her eyebrows. “What’s the bet it’s green?”
Xandie shook her head. “I’ll pass on that bet, thanks. Do you want to know what we found?”
Agatha pursed her lips “You need to speak to Marjorie first. When you come back out, make a formal statement and present your evidence. But I think she needs to speak to her grandmother.” Agatha nodded to Priss and pressed a button. “Go through to the holding cells. When you’re done, buzz me. I’ll let you out.”
Priss stood, her face composed except for the thin line of her compressed lips. “Thanks, Mrs. Braun.”
Agatha nodded and pointed to the door.
Xandie followed behind Priss into a different holding area to the one where she was incarcerated when the killer knight stalked her. Obviously the matriarch of the Penne clan received more consideration than a lowly librarian did. She wasn’t sure what to expect from this new area, but cheery yellow paint and white trim wasn’t it. Holding cell was stenciled in black ink over the top of the door. The central panel of the door was gray with a slot for food. The top and bottom panels were clear though. What surprised Xandie the most was the fact the door was wide open.
“Hard times ain’t hard with the doors open.”
Priss shot Xandie a frantic what-do-I-do stare.
Xandie rapped on the open door. “Up for visitors, Mrs. Penne?”
Marjorie Penne lifted her head and smiled at Xandie. “Alexandra. You’ve met my granddaughter, Esmeralda?”
Es sat cross-legged on a small silver and blue rug placed in the middle of Marjorie’s cell. She met Xandie’s confused glance with a grin. “I bought stuff from home to make it more comfortable. Gran posted bail but stayed here.”
Marjorie raised a hand. “Peace, child. I decided it was more peaceful here. Plus, once the killer acted again, it would be obvious I wasn’t involved.”
“As long as you didn’t pay someone else to commit the crime to get you off the hook?” Priss smiled with her teeth but it was a half-hearted effort.
“You have a terrible opinion of me, but yet I am at a loss why a stranger would care?” As Marjorie frowned at Priss, a considering look crossed her face. “Other than the last time you aired your opinion of me, have we met?”
Xandie reached out and gave her friend’s hand a squeeze of encouragement.
“Not exactly.” Priss took a deep breath and rushed the last few words out. “But you knew my mother, Melinda Penne.”
Marjorie shook her head rhythmically. “No. No. My daughter Melinda had no family. She disappeared years ago.”
“Twenty-four years ago, correct?”
“Yes.” Marjorie’s one word was closed, final.
“She was pregnant with me when she left town with my father, Simon Makepeace. He was a dragon slayer.”
“I never knew his last name.” Marjorie cleared her throat. “How is it possible you’re Melinda’s child? Dragons aren’t compatible with humans.”
Priss shrugged. “Nature finds a way. There are slayer records that mention hybrid births, but they’re rare. I’m sure Xandie could dig up library records relating to the topic.” Priss glanced at Xandie, who nodded agreement. “Plus, we think my father might’ve had latent dragon DNA.”
